Curiosity at its Finest
by Volati
Summary: From the beginning to the end, he was driven by such a small idea. He knew, that it wasn't just him that had fallen to the natural inception. Her eyes told him everything-and he wanted to be that everything. It was a promise. Forever.


After reading for a while, and finding myself totally hungover this pairing, I couldn't help but write _something_ about them. It was just so damn cute in the movie. Especially after watching it twice, it didn't leave my mind. If one is looking for a time setting, I'd say the story spans from during the movie, to about a year or two later.

Spending my time writing this from 1 AM in the morning to finishing it a few hours later, I realized a song had ended up becoming a base to it...kinda.

So if you all are interested, go ahead and listen to 'Just the Way You Are' by Bruno Mars as you read along.

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...

Without further ado, wonderful reading.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Inception, nor its characters, those are all the idea of Mr. Nolan, who is a genius for devising such a wonderful plot and pairing. I do not own the song either, that is Bruno Mars'.

* * *

'_How did it begin?_'

* * *

Of course, how she came into his life had first perked his own curiosity. She was just a young girl—a university student, innocent…merely a child. Yet she had the fire of a true woman, her confidence had blown him away as she grew buildings with the most precise of detail. Even her subconscious had surprised him; full of workers, striving to finish their projects. He was amused, and his curiosity grew.

However, it was never enough for him just to be curious. He couldn't lead himself on, assuming such stuff. He had to research; he had to _know—_to understand_._

And he succeeded.

'_Quick give me a kiss.'_

A simple peck, a demure little kiss—it was all he needed to finally notice something. She wasn't just a girl; an innocent one at that. She knew what she was doing and he stupidly didn't realize that despite her achievements of producing such architecture in dreams and building mazes even the best of dreamers could find themselves stuck in.

Her facial expression of bemusement and shock afterward was something he treasured. That along with the fact she knew there was something behind that other than just 'distracting the projections'. Total bullshit…and she knew.

It was when they woke up, he realized a wall had just appeared. A cracking wall—waiting to break. And so he waited, settling himself to looks across the warehouse, catching that pale hue on her cheeks.

Eames had noticed the stares from then on; finding that after Cobb had left, the warehouse had become a 'bloody stifling place with two oblivious, ninnies.' He didn't take it to offense like how Ariadne did. She had kicked him hard in the thigh. The furious look she had caused his invisible smile to curl into a wide grin and erupt into laughter.

The two fighting had suddenly stopped and stared. Looking back Arthur couldn't help but fall in love with those brown eyes, twinkling in amusement at his laughter.

Maybe he should laugh more often.

There were more moments, of ridiculousness, where Eames would bother him to the point of insanity. He remembered the day he walked in, carrying a bag of who knew what and decidedly poured it onto the warehouse floor.

"Darling, I found a gift for you."

Arthur saw red.

In fact, he saw a lot of red. It was a shitload of dice. Red dice, rolling all over the floor. He had no idea how to respond to such action, he was sure he had his own totem, as he reached for his pant—oh fuck.

How did he not realize this? Immediately he ransacked his desk, scrounging for his die, the only thing tying him to reality besides _her._ Finding nothing, he sighed angrily, his eyes gliding towards Eames in an unsure fashion.

Eames erupted into a loud laughter, as Arthur paled at the sight. Was he serious? Arthur was on the verge of decking Eames one in the jaw, until Ariadne walked in that same morning, pausing at the pool of red dice upon the floor. Looking at culprit and the victim, she snorted, immediately hiding her giggling behind her mouth.

"Ingenious isn't it Ariadne, Luv? Princess here is going to have to find his totem in this mess!"

Soon as her laughter stopped, Arthur couldn't help but frown. Funny, he liked such noise despite her laughing at his misfortune.

"As much as I'd love to see such thing…I can't do that to Arthur." Crossing the room to the distraught point man, she raised her knapsack and opened a pocket for him to peer into. His eyes widened at the sight of his totem, its red shiny glory for him to see and snatch away.

"It fell in my bag after I gathered up my notes. That must have slipped in somehow—"

"Thank you Ariadne." He smiled, looking up at the young architect. Gripping the dice in his hand, he was happy to see her tilt her head aside in an innocent fashion. Her hair draped as nicely as it pooled at the crook of her neck.

Ruffling it had just made it so much cuter.

* * *

'_I surely wasn't dreaming.'_

_

* * *

_

They had hit it off from then with the simple gestures, the witty remarks and the occasional arguments between him and Eames, later ended by her with the smile glued on her face. She was always the sun shining through the clouds of his day.

It was then he decided it was more than appropriate to ask her somewhere for dinner. She was always working longer than necessary; her dream architecture had become so accurate it was more than enough for the point man. Her work had to be celebrated with something _extravagant._ Dinner seemed nice; it was the best way to get her out during the evening while Eames wasn't there to bother and tease.

Lovebirds he called them.

Lovesick teenagers he called them.

"Do you really think so?" Ariadne questioned, welcoming Arthur to her apartment. She was blushing from what he could see. She was so nervous—unlike her. Arthur had shrugged.

"He can think what he wants."

It wasn't what Ariadne was looking for, the frown on her face had bothered him as she turned in silence to prepare for their dinner out.

He was already in a three-piece suit, his normal attire, clean cut and sharp. He was just sitting on her crème sofa, tapping his dice upon her side table, reminding himself this was no dream. He was going to dinner with her as a friend, a co-worker…to his dismay. Internally he couldn't help but feel down.

"Do I look okay?" Her voice broke, snapping him out of his reverie. Turning in his seat, he raised eyebrows. Slowly did he raise himself up, and adjust his tie while he cleared his throat. Moving himself closer to her, he cocked his head aside. Quickly Ariadne did a spin for him, twirling smoothly in her heels, causing the bangles on her wrists to chime. It was her smile that did it for him.

"You always look beautiful Ariadne."

She hugs him, quickly stumbling back into his arms after releasing him.

He wished he never had to let go.

Days then pass…the looks and touches no longer innocent. They become more daring from what Arthur saw. He remembers whispering in her ear, the short touches that glide down his vest, the occasional kiss on the cheek. Along with one disturbing one from Eames saying, it was 'a message from the Architect'.

It was then the day had become dusk, night coming in its full horror. Her question finally out in the open. He hadn't expected it.

"Arthur…why did you kiss me?"

His hand had stopped writing. He immediately forgot about the letter to Cobb as his pen clattered to his already paper-covered desk. He had to straighten up one day. Swiveling in his chair, he closed his eyes in thought before opening them to the confused orbs of the maze maker.

"We had to distract the projections…Ariadne."

She shivered. He liked it, the way her name rolled off his tongue in a seductive manner. She then shook her head, her hands gripped to her side, one surely stuffed into her cardigan pocket, clenching her totem.

"That wasn't all was it? Damn it Arthur, why the hell did you kiss me?" She asked again, her voice cracking. He knew she wasn't going to like _any_ answer. They both knew what they wanted the other to say. Arthur frowned, realizing she wasn't going to take it anymore. She had enough of the games.

He widened his eyes realizing the architect had speed; she had closed the gap between them and their desks, her hands pressed against his desk behind him while he was pinned to his swivel chair. He hummed in amusement, causing the girl to fume.

"Tell me!"

"…"

"ARTHUR!"

"…I was curious."

The girl blinked; her furious expression deadpanning. Her hands, pressed angrily onto his desk, released the wood with such shock. She looked pained, saddened even. He knew that look. He had said the wrong thing. He knew himself that it was the wrong thing. However, he didn't want to hide it. It was true. He was curious.

He was still curious.

Suddenly his hand shot out, grabbing the girl by the wrist, pulling her close. His lips crashed onto hers, awkwardly before the shocked girl had understood what had happened. Quickly did they adjust, feeling as if they fit together. She moved in, nestling a knee between his legs for balance. This was no dream from what the two knew. They both were fumbling with their totems, which had later fallen out of their free hands and onto the warehouse floor as they grabbed onto each other for dear life.

To him her lips were soft, softer than what he had felt in that dream. She was sweet tasting and he couldn't help but want more.

Letting up to breathe, was enough for both of them to realize there was so much more to _this—to everything._

"…a-are you still curious…?" She breathed, staring back into his eyes. Her forehead rested on his, both of them looking at the other with a satisfied and darker gleam.

"…are you?"

* * *

'_No. You weren't. Perfection_-_we achieved it…hadn't we?'_

_

* * *

_

Eames had noticed it like a lit up billboard. It was like an explosion from Yusef's chemistry closet. It still smelled horridly back there from what Arthur knew. Either way, Eames had noticed how comfortable the two were with each other. They shared their space, huddling with each other in secret, diving into dreams with their fingers intertwined and smiles on their face.

It was bloody brilliant from what the British man had seen. He couldn't but help joke about the two now. Then later he realized how hard the young girl—no wait fully blossomed woman, could hit. He knew from the pain in his groin from the last one. Arthur hadn't let that one rest for weeks. That along with her _change._

She had always worn her cardigan and normal jeans and scarves before their connection, but it had changed into pencil skirts, a more fashionable scarf, and or dress jackets. He knew she was trying to please him, knowing his own like for the professional attire. Yet he only said the same thing to her a few months ago, when he had first taken her out to dinner.

"You always look beautiful Ariadne."

It was then he wondered…was she happy?

There was a day he had confronted her in her apartment about it. She glared fiercely, before she found herself frowning. Her eyes went downcast as she placed her coffee mug down. Her mouth let loose so many insecurities, fears of imperfection, as she could remember standing next to him. She was nothing compared to what he knew, understood or even _had._ She was a simple girl, a dreamer bent on trying to change the world, trying to grasp her own ideals.

He was a perfectionist, aiming to find the details, being precise, accurate. He was to make sure everything went smoothly, and no one got hurt. To her, that was something she couldn't be.

She was reckless, a downright adrenaline junkie, bent on killing herself so many times in the dream realm it hurt. She wanted to cry, to bleed, to _understand_ that there was so much more than crisp lines and sharp angles.

He frowned at her realization at all of that. Yet she was off on one thing.

"I'm not perfect…hell Ariadne, no one's perfect—but if you want…we can be."

"…how?"

"I'll take you away."

"Forever…?" He saw the smile on her face, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as he began to realize he had finally taken the plunge. They both had.

"Forever and more….because…"

* * *

'…_Never was there such thing…yet we believed…because…'_

_

* * *

_

It was a shocker…actually no. Cobb had seen it coming.

The endless amount of letters, of distraught pleas asking for help of Arthur wondering what he had to do. He was desperate from letter to letter, asking Cobb if it was right for him to feel such way for the Architect.

Cobb couldn't help but laugh at the sudden change in the point man. He used to be so sure, so confident! Now he fumbled with the simplest and most complex problem; women.

Ariadne specifically. It was mind boggling how Arthur had no idea how to approach the idea of asking her to dinner or give her a simple rose. However it was that letter, bringing up the dreams, Mal and the fear of falling into something like limbo.

He couldn't help but send that letter much later than he was supposed to.

In actually it had only three words once said to him by someone smart and trusting, someone he knew first hand wouldn't fall to such places and lose themselves in the dream. Telling it to Arthur would be enough.

_Don't lose yourself._

It was enough.

A month later, and no letters from Arthur, he noticed a new letter, one from Ariadne explaining something that had occurred. His mouth had slowly curled into a smile at the read. His children noticed and clung to his legs wondering what had made him so happy. Even James' bucket of worms hadn't surprised him as much as what he was reading.

Beneath her personal letter was an invitation.

Oh, he wasn't going to miss this at all.

"James…Philipa…do you want to see your new aunt?"

* * *

'_we had each other…'_

_

* * *

_

"…I love you. God—Ariadne I love you so much…" He whispered into her ears as she arrived before him, lifting her veil to see those beautiful eyes, those lips he stole kisses from every day, her hair that fell down and rested perfectly upon her shoulders. It was only her that made his reality. There was no questioning it.

She was crying. Messing up her makeup. He couldn't help but chuckle while he wiped the moisture off her blushing cheeks. He found the girl so out of character at that moment. Hell they both were—ridiculous, nervous, crazy for standing here before a damn priest declaring more than just their underlying love and devotion.

It was a promise. Their promise.

Forever.

Eames said they were lovebirds.

Eames said they were lovesick teenagers.

And Eames was sitting there, smirking all the same at the two of them. They finally agreed with him, and yet…they didn't give a damn what he said.

Cobb had come—not just as a guest, but as Arthur's _best man_—to give his congratulations, grabbing Ariadne into a hug as she shined happily by Arthur's side. He had asked questions about 'jobs', neither of them wavering in the fact that they would still work. They were still young, they wanted to see more than just a stiff world, unbendable to everything that a dream stretched and molded. They knew it wouldn't happen—falling to limbo—they had something that kept them together in both dreams and reality.

Their wedding bands—specialized and engraved with their names and a small little picture of their totems on their rings. They both knew the ring had its own weight special for both of them; it was another totem as itself.

So when they did step into that dream, walking down a familiar road with their fingers intertwined as they wondered what the future would bring, they didn't worry. They understood the dangers after Cobb had walked them through almost everything. So, when they found themselves in a familiar place, they had ended it right then and there. Together they dropped off a cliff, leaving the once empty world with nothing but color and nature.

* * *

'_Why Arthur…tell me why we were together...'_

* * *

Arthur had discovered Ariadne one day reading his letters copied and filed away to Cobb, along with the responses. She was amused, especially at the last one.

"Now these words are familiar…" She murmured, trailing her finger over the manuscript. Arthur tilted his head.

"It was his last letter to me…before we got married."

"Funny. I said this to him when he was stuck in limbo." She laughed, tucking away the letter into her pocket before slipping away, leaving Arthur one last glance.

He was shocked. Then he sighed, finding that Cobb pretty much had done little in getting that engagement ring on her finger. Ariadne's words drove him into doing so. Cobb was just the messenger.

He was their guide, from their job through their love life. Arthur smiled to himself, deciding to sit himself down and right one more letter.

He wondered if Cobb was okay with them visiting soon. Philipa wanted to see her new auntie after all. Arthur knew Ariadne would like children.

They always flocked to her in their dreams after all.

So when curiosity peaked once more, and he found himself nestling his ear against the bump on her stomach, he couldn't help but shoot back up at the sudden kick.

"He's moving." She smiled happily, resting upon a rocking chair while Philipa and James wandered around Cobb's house searching for a bunch of pillows for their Auntie Ariadne.

Arthur looked in awe at how beautiful she was that moment, she seemed at peace as she watched James find their dog's bed to use for Ariadne's swollen feet.

"James! Auntie can't use that!"

"B-but—! "

"No!"

So Philippa dragged James elsewhere to gather a collection they later christened 'Auntie Ari's baby's pillows', Ariadne looked to Arthur asking him another question.

"…Do I still look okay..?" She whispered, finding herself succumbing to female hormones. Arthur smiled, finding it easy to say the words that fell from his mouth. They were true after all. Even if she was at her worst, he'd treat her the same.

It was their promise.

Forever.

"Ariande…your beautiful just the way you are."

* * *

'…_because you're perfect, just the way you are.'_

_

* * *

_

_'Fin'_

Review, Comment, Questions? All appreciated :)


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